


The Seventh Sin

by BayouStorm



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angel Castiel, Creature Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, Dubious Consent, F/M, First Time, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Original Mythology, Past Rape/Non-con, Psychological Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-16
Updated: 2013-12-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 17:15:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,759
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/968469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BayouStorm/pseuds/BayouStorm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years have passed since Dean came to Hell, and with each passing day, Alistair's deal is never too far from his mind. He tries his hardest not to think about it, but he can feel his resolve crumbling.</p>
<p>A new deal is offered to him by a strange angel named Castiel who resides in Hell, and with the knowledge that if he accepts Castiel's deal he won't start the apocalypse, can Dean afford to pass this up? But what will be left of him if he accepts it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I See A Darkness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time attempting to write fanfic, and I am a combination of really excited and extremely nervous.
> 
> Some things I've changed from the canon such as demon and angel mythology. There will be mentions of past non-con and torture, and dub-con is a big part of the beginning. There is a bit of angst at the beginning also, but I promise it will tone down as the story goes on.
> 
> Any comments are appreciated.

**Hell: 5 years **

_Sweat rolls down Dean’s face and onto his neck making his skin itch. He rolls his shoulder trying to wipe some of it off, but it doesn't do much good. Slowly, he scans the room he’s in, and dread pools in his stomach. He can’t remember how he got here, but he must be on a hunt. That’s the only reason he’d be in this creepy ass house._

_“Dean!”_

_Sam’s yell wakes Dean from his thoughts, and he quickly runs out of the room and down the stairs to the first floor. He skips the last couple of steps and jumps on the ground, feet nearly slipping out from under him, and turns a near 360 not sure where Sam had called him from. It sounded like it was in the house, but Dean doesn't even know where this house is much less where Sam would be in it._

_Dean tries to calm himself as panic sets in. He needs to find Sam._

_“Dean!” Another yell comes from the back of the house, and Dean, now oriented, pulls his knife from his jacket and follows it._

_He’s momentarily confused when he sees the knife. It’s strangely familiar and not in a nostalgic kind of way. A whisper in the back of Dean’s mind tells him he shouldn’t be touching it. Something very bad is going to happen if he doesn’t put it down. Dean desperately wants to sling it across the room, but he needs this knife. He has to protect Sammy, and for some reason, he can’t find his gun._

_Dean holds the knife to his side and slowly enters what looks like a kitchen. Judging from the dust gathering on the counters, it hasn’t been used in a long time. Dean glances at the floor and stops. The only trail of footsteps in the dust is his. No one has been in this kitchen in ages. Sam isn’t here._

_Dean tightens his hand on the knife and finds some comfort in its weight. The whisper in his mind gets louder, insisting he drop the knife, but Dean pushes it back. He needs this knife. He needs to find Sam._

_“Sam?” Dean doesn’t know why he’s being so quiet. If Sam is in another room, he probably won’t hear Dean. That’s if Sam is here at all. Where is here? Why can’t he remember why he’s here?_

_“Sorry, Dean. Not quite Sam, but close.”_

_Dean whips around and stares. Something that looks like him is leaning against the kitchen doorway and smiling. It’s identical to him even down to holding the same knife. A feeling of déjà vu ripples over Dean. What is happening?_

_“Did you bring me here? A shifter?” A shifter would make some sort of sense although Dean isn’t sure how he’d forget hunting one. He doesn’t even remember waking up._

_“No, and no. Don’t you remember, Dean? I’m your future.” The doppelganger flips his knife in the air and gives Dean a toothy grin as he catches it._

_Dean raises his own knife and points it at the fake. “My future what?” This is wrong. Old memories are itching at the back of Dean’s mind, but he can’t remember what they are or why they’re important._

_The thing takes a step towards Dean and gives him a mocking sad look. “Don’t you remember Dean? Don’t you remember your future?” The thing screams and plunges its knife into its stomach and rips the knife up its torso laughing as blood and organs pour out of it. Dean backs up till his back hits one of the kitchen counters and quickly scrambles around it as the pool of blood begins to reach towards him. Vomit rises in his throat. The thing that looks like him continues to laugh even with a now gaping whole in the middle of its stomach and chest. It raises a hand and wiggles its fingers at Dean before sticking it in its wound, and sighs happily, closing its eyes, when it brings the hand up and sucks the blood and gore from its fingers._

_“W-what the hell are you?” Dean could have a gone a whole lifetime without seeing what he looks like doing that. He prays to whoever’s listening that Sam doesn’t walk in to see this. Where is Sam? If he were here, surely he would have heard all this._

_The thing pulls out his fingers with a loud slurp and smiles. “Oh, Dean. Didn’t I tell you you couldn’t escape?”_

_Dean stares at the thing’s face knowing he’ll see black before it blinks its eyes. The knife falls from Dean’s hand before he realizes he’s let go._ _He remembers where he is now._

_The doppelganger takes a few steps closer, splashing as it sloshes through its own blood. “Take a good look Dean and remember. This is what you’re going to become. You couldn’t escape Hell, and you can’t escape your future here. Don’t forget that.”_

_The thing reaches Dean and stares into his eyes, jabbing its knife into Dean chest. Dean doesn’t have the strength to fight back. “I am not just who you’re going to be, I am who you are. I am what will end your suffering.”_

_The thing slides the knife down Dean’s body and tries to put the handle into Dean’s hand. “You just have to take this and say yes, Dean. Then you can be free.”_

_Dean closes his eyes and shakes his head no. He knows what’s coming._

_The thing growls and wrenches the knife away from Dean’s hand and stabs it into his heart. Dean screams at the pain, and the room begins to spin. Distantly, he can hear the doppelganger echoing his screams._

* * *

Dean’s eyes fly open, fear pulsing through his veins, as screams from other souls echo into his room. He desperately wants to reach down and make sure there isn’t a hole in his chest, but the chains attached to his wrists prevent him. More than anything he’d like a mirror to check his eyes. He knows he’s not a demon, but still.

Trying to ignore the screams, Dean stares blankly at the floor. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but he must have drifted off sometime after Alistair left. It’s dangerous to sleep in Hell, and, even when you do sleep, the dreams are never peaceful. Lucky for him, there’s always at least one soul screaming like a fucked-up alarm clock.

Looking up, Dean takes a deep breath and gives a sharp tug on the chains that keep his wrists and ankles anchored to the wrack. Unsurprisingly, they haven’t weakened since the last couple of thousand times he checked. When he’s honest with himself, he knows he doesn’t really expect them to, but he has to at least attempt to escape. If he stops trying that will mean he’s given up, and once he does that Alistair’s deal would just become more tempting.

Warily, Dean looks around Alistair’s workshop worried something might have changed while he slept. The walls are decorated with various torturing instruments some Alistair invented himself. Dean shivers. The demon loves showing off his creations and especially loves demonstrating them on Dean.

One of Alistair’s inventions is sitting on a workbench by Dean’s wrack. Dean feels his mind shutting down just looking at it and squeezes his eyes shut.

The screams of Hell are getting louder and a particularly harsh shriek makes Dean jump. Thoughts of Alistair’s deal flits through his mind again, but he stops that thought process fast. He isn’t going to become a demon, and he isn’t going to become a torturer. Sam will save him before he ever comes close to that.

Dean’s body sags further in his chains. He shouldn’t have thought of his brother. The possibility of Sam ever freeing him was slim to none. Maybe Sam is even happy now. Now that Dean is gone, he can go back to a somewhat normal life. Maybe even have the whole picket fence dream.

Dean knows time goes faster in Hell and what feels like years is probably only a couple of months on Earth, if that. Sam is probably still trying to save him, but he’ll eventually give up. As much as demons love to lie, Dean knows that neither Alistair nor his “interns” are when they say there is no way they’ll let him leave Hell still human.

The only way to leave Hell is to take Alistair’s deal. It isn’t difficult. All he has to do is pick up knife and cut into a soul just like Alistair cuts into him. It’d be easy, and eventually, the carving he does to the souls of Hell would carve him into another being entirely. Then he could leave Hell. Then he could see Sam.

“And kill him,” Dean whispers. He knows what he’ll be capable of as a demon, and there will be nothing to hold him back. The things other demons do will seems like kid stuff next to Dean, and Dean’s greatest fear is that Sam will be his first target.

They say demons forget their humanity in Hell, but Dean knows he can never forget Sam. All of Dean’s love for his brother will be corrupted, and once on Earth, he’ll shoot towards Sam like a bullet.

“Talking to yourself now, Babydoll?”

Dean jerks up and sees a demon standing in Alistair’s doorway. In hell, demons can look like whatever they want, and this one has chosen the form of a young girl of around 16. She looks innocent except for the black eyes and a smile with too much teeth.

She moves closer. “Don’t want to talk? You know, it’s rude to ignore company.” Dean stares. He’s too tired for this. Alistair had just finished with him not too long ago and his body while healed still hurt, and that dream had completely drained him.

Dean glances down and grimaces. He’d forgotten Alistair had left him completely naked on the wrack. Sometimes Alistair likes to start Dean’s day out clothed to give him a sense of security before he shreds that from him. That had not been today. Today had just been a lesson on who owns Dean. It’s a lesson that makes Dean want to tear his skin off.

Trying to hold his head up, Dean says, “You shouldn’t be in here without Alistair’s permission. He gets jealous.”

Saying it makes Dean nauseous, but he’s tired and he knows nothing can make a demon leave faster than the truth. It’s a truth Dean tries to ignore.

“Oh, I don’t think Alistair’s going to mind,” she says and takes what looks like a set of keys out of her pocket. Within less than a minute, Dean finds himself crumpled on the floor chain free.

“I don’t know if you’ve been huffing the brimstone or something, but you’re going to regret freeing me,” Dean growls trying to get up from the floor. His legs are numb and not cooperating.

“I wouldn’t use the word free.” She yanks Dean from the floor and ties his wrists together, shoving his back against a wall before he can react.

Dean struggles to break the chains on his wrists, but stops when he sees the demon’s face. It looks like pity. A chill runs up his spine.

Gripping his face in her hand, she says, “It's your lucky day, Dean. I’m afraid Alistair will no longer require your services because someone with _way_ more power wants them instead. And he wants them right now." 

Her hand tightens painfully, and the catlike smile returns, “Don't look so down, Babydoll. I'm sure if this guy doesn't like you, Alistair will take you back in a heartbeat. You are his special project, after all.”

She releases his jaw, and before Dean can say anything, he sees her arm swing and blacks out.

* * *

_Dean holds back a shout and tries again to pull his hand through the chains. He’d broke his hand earlier trying to slip his wrist out of one of the cuffs, but he swears there is some sort of magic on the chains that make them shrink any time he gets close to breaking free._

_Dean stills when he hears the singing. Alistair is getting close._

_Dean always hears the demon before he sees him. Alistair loves to sing as soon as he is in range of Dean’s hearing. He says it’s a gift to Dean, so Dean can prepare himself before he enters the room. Alistair never gives out gifts to his projects, but Dean is special._

_Dean’s movement becomes more frantic. Alistair’s voice is getting louder and louder, and Dean can feel panic setting in._

_Alistair is going to be mad that Dean broke his hand. He’s going to know that Dean tried to escape, and he’ll be punished for it._

_Dean tries to calm himself but doesn’t manage to hold back a yell this time when he tries to pull his hand through the chain. The pain is blinding, but it is nothing compared to what Alistair will do to him if he sees Dean like this._

_Dean ignores the thudding pain but realizes too late the singing has stopped._

_“Boy, what have you done to yourself?”_

_Dean doesn’t answer. Speaking won’t change anything._

_The demon gives an exaggerated sigh and walks over to Dean. “Can’t leave you alone for too long can I boy? Start getting crazy ideas without a reminder of who you belong to.”_

_Dean doesn’t take his eyes off the floor. He hears Alistair pull something off the wall. It sounds sharp._

_Alistair stands in front of Dean and grabs his hair roughly pulling his head back and making Dean look at him. Dean wants to close his eyes, but he’d tried that once and it’d taken a long time for his eyelids grow back._

_Alistair isn’t like any demon Dean has ever seen, more reptile than anything. At least with the others, Dean could tell they’d been human once. With Alistair, Dean isn’t sure what he was before he came to Hell. Part of Dean, believes the demon was born here._

_Eyes yellow and wicked, Alistair smiles at Dean. “Don’t worry boy. I’ll give you a reminder.” Alistair holds up his tool for Dean to see, and Dean begins to shake._

_“You won’t forget again when I’m done with you.”_

_Dean screams as the pain breaks his body apart, and Alistair leans closer, lips nearly touching Dean’s ear. “This is merely foreplay Dean. Can’t wait till you get off this wrack. Then the fun will really start.”_

* * *

On the verge of hysterical, Dean wakes and violently jerks on his chains. His world twists around, and he hits the stone floor hard, knocking the wind out of him.

Confused, Dean shakily stands up and looks at his wrists. He has no chains. The demon moved him here but hadn’t bothered to put him on a new wrack.

Goosebumps forming on his skin, Dean shivers and rolls his eyes. Of course, she’s left him completely naked, but he’ll take that any day for no chains.

Wondering what he’d been lying on if it wasn’t a wrack, Dean looks behind him and stares. He’d been lying on a bed, and, not something that passed for a bed, but a real bed. A fancy king sized bed. Dean knew Hell was twisted but this didn’t make any sense. He’s in a bedroom. What kind of demon has a bedroom and would put him in it?

Dean’s jaw clenches. There are plenty of demons that might prefer a bedroom to a dungeon, and it doesn’t take much imagination to figure out what they’d do with it. A bed is just a different type of wrack.

Dean bitterly tears his eyes away from the bed and surveys the rest of the room, more questions popping into his mind than answers. The room looks like something out of a _Lord of the Rings_ ’ castle with the walls and ceiling made out of the same grey stone as the floor, and a gold chandelier hanging high above Dean’s head. Even the bed seems out of place. It’s a four-poster complete with a canopy and a curtain that can be wrapped around it. Dean vaguely remembers seeing one in some princess movie he watched with Sam when they were kids. Not that he’ll ever admit to that.

Dean flexes his toes as the cold floor begins to numb his feet, and his eyes roam back to the bed. The blankets and curtains are a deep red with embroidery designs sown in them in white. Hesitantly, Dean takes a step closer to the bed and peers at the designs, and vaguely, he can see feathers. The frame of the bed is metal and solid black, and Dean doesn’t need to touch it to know how cold it is.

Slowly, Dean presses his hand down on the bed and sighs. He might not have much room for comparison having spent most of his life sleeping on motel beds, but even he can tell that this is a fantastic bed. Dean would love nothing better than to crawl back in the bed and sleep, and he hates the bed for tempting him, but he needs to stop wasting time. He doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be alone.

More alert, Dean takes a step back and drags his eyes away from the bed. Looking around, he sees that the only other item in the room is a chair on the opposite end of it right by a wooden door, the room’s only exit.

A small thrill runs through Dean as he looks at the door. If the demon chick hadn’t bothered to put him on a wrack or even chain him maybe she also didn’t bother to lock the door? He doesn’t know how far he can get through Hell before he gets caught, but if there is any chance he can escape, he has to try. Dean takes a step towards the door but stops when he hears noises on the other side. Hope sinking, Dean watches as the door opens.

A demon walks through and turns around to shut the door with an audible click and turn of a lock. The first thing Dean notices is that he’s dressed weird. Most demons choose to dress very casually in jeans and t-shirts or to go completely nude, but this guy is in a navy suit complete with a blue tie, black dress shoes, and a brown trench coat that Dean can tell even from his back is slightly too big for him.

Dean slowly starts easing himself further away from the bed hoping not to draw attention. The demon hasn’t noticed him standing yet, and from this angle now all Dean can see is the messy dark hair on top of the demon’s head. The guy dresses like a tax accountant but doesn’t bother to brush his hair? Being naked, Dean supposes he doesn't have much room to judge.

Dean takes another quick scan of the room, but there is nothing except for the bed, and the chair that is out of his reach. The only way for Dean to defend himself now is to throw a blanket at the demon.

The demon turns and stares when he sees Dean standing. “You’re awake.”

Dean doesn’t know what to say to that, and after years of listening to Alistair, Dean can’t help but notice how different this demon sounds. As much as Dean hates to admit it, Alistair’s voice is charismatic in way that draws Dean to him, but it’s also edged with a promise of violence that makes Dean want to run. It’s the closest he’ll ever get to hearing a snake talk. This guy just sounds like he’s been gargling rocks for a few centuries.

He makes to move closer to Dean, and Dean backs up till his back hits the wall with a loud crack. Something isn’t right.

Dean looks at the eyes of the man in front of him and can’t tear his gaze away. They aren’t demonic. They’re blue like the sky. And they’re glowing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title:
> 
> I See A Darkness by Johnny Cash
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Txn1MiqJct4


	2. Cool Water

“What are you?” are the first words out of Dean’s mouth. He really shouldn’t speak at all, but he doesn’t know what’s happening here. Hell has prepared him for the unexpected when it comes to demons, but he’s isn’t sure this is a demon.

The man takes a few steps closer to Dean leaving only a few feet between them. “My name is Castiel. I am an angel of the Lord.”

Dean opens his mouth and quickly shuts it. This is the first time he’s heard a demon claim to be an angel. Not even Alistair is arrogant enough to do that. “There’s no such thing.”

“No such thing as what?”

“Angels.”

Castiel frowns. “We exist Dean.”

Dean barely manages to hold back a laugh. Did this guy honestly think that Dean would just believe he’s an angel? “Yeah, I don’t believe in angels, and I especially don’t believe demons when they claim to be one.”

Castiel tilts his head slightly and seems to be thinking something over. Dean fights the urge to squirm under Castiel’s gaze and nearly jumps out his skin when the guy finally speaks. “Do you need proof?”

Dean doesn’t say anything. Proof of what? That this guy is as crazy as any other demon? Castiel continues to stare at Dean but, receiving no answer, walks away towards the door.

Dean lets out as small breath he didn’t know he’s been holding as Castiel reaches the door but quickly tenses up, as Castiel stops not in front the door but the chair beside it and removes his trench coat placing it on the chair.

“What are you doing?” Dean reddens a little at how high his voice is but doesn’t look away from Castiel.

Castiel looks back at Dean, now removing his suit jacket and loosening the tie around his neck. “I am showing you what you need to see.”

“I don’t need to see you naked, “ Dean mutters. He glances over at the bed and slowly inches toward it intending to put it between him and Castiel.

Noticing the movement, Castiel turns around finishing unbuttoning his dress shirt. “I am an angel Dean. If I want to reach you, that bed will not stop me.”

Dean stops and glares at Castiel. Of course, he knows the bed is a stupid barrier, not mention, it’s a bed so the half naked freak probably wants him by it if not on it. He just needs to do something. Dean can’t remember the last time he’s been off the wrack without chains, and now that he is, he’s going to fight with everything he has left, even if he’s fighting some guy that says he’s an angel.

He’s at least an attractive wannabe angel, Dean thinks, as Castiel pulls his undershirt over his head showing a very lean and muscular chest and shoulders. Dean leans against the wall and stares up at the ceiling. Great, he’s just successfully passed the first step in Stockholm syndrome.

“Look at me Dean.”

Dean begrudgingly drags his eyes away from the ceiling and sees Castiel’s moved closer.

“What do you know about angels Dean?”

Dean raises an eyebrow. Apparently, angels are into voyeurism.

“Uh, I don’t know anything. I mean I’ve seen paintings and stuff that show angels with wings and halos and sometimes a harp. I also know the devil was one.” Dean pauses. “You’re not the devil are you?”

Castiel’s whole body goes rigid. If looks could set people on fire, Dean’s pretty sure he’d be ash, and since this guy might be an angel that maybe could actually do that, it shows his self-control.

“I am nothing like Lucifer,” Castiel spits out.

Dean raises his hands palms out, “Ok, ok. I just thought I’d ask. You _are_ the only angel I’ve seen here.” If this guy wants to be angel, then Dean wasn’t going to argue with him.

Castiel glares and takes a breath, relaxing somewhat.

“The halos are a human concept and merely symbolic for our celestial nature, and I have only seen one of my siblings ever play a harp. They are quite beautiful instruments.”

Castiel visibly relaxes further at the mention of music, and Dean takes a mental note of that for later.

“The wings though are very much real.” Castiel rolls his arms, and Dean watches as Castiel’s eyes grow brighter and something moves behind his back.

Dark wings unfold behind Castiel, only partially stretched out because the room can’t hold their length. Dean isn’t sure if they are black or simply very dark, but they have a luminescence not too different from Castiel’s eyes.

Dean’s breath catches in his throat just looking at them, and he feels a pull to move closer and touch them. His hand slowly moves from the wall reaching out to stroke a feather, but the wings disappear taking the urge with them.

Disoriented, Dean looks back at Castiel who has moved closer, bringing himself within arms reach.

“A demon does not have wings, Dean.”

Dean looks at the empty space where Castiel’s wings had been. “No, they don’t. Where did they go?”

“They exist on another plane when not visible. A human can not see them without burning the eyes from their skull.”

Dean blinks. “So why am I not standing here with bloody eye sockets?”

Castiel tilts his head, “You are a soul Dean. And you are a very special one. One of the only true linchpins for this universe. It is the reason why I had to remove you from Alistair’s hands and put you under my charge.”

Dean glances at Castiel’s eyes then looks away. The glowing is making it hard to concentrate and the conversation is just getting more and more bizarre. So this guy is an angel? He’s in hell, and that surely means he isn’t that different from any other demon.

“A linch-what? And can you stop the eye sparkles? It’s freaking me out worse than the black eyes.”

The light behind Castiel’s eyes dims finally allowing Dean to look him in the face. “My apologies I have been resting for a long time and forgot humans are generally uncomfortable with signs of our grace.”

“You’re what?”

Castiel stands straighter, and his face becomes more serious, if that is possible. “Grace. It is an element blessed by God onto his first children. Grace is what gives angels our power. It is as much a part of ourselves as your soul is you.” Castiel gestures towards Dean with his hand.

Heat rises to Dean’s face at the reminder that he is very much still naked.

“Yeah, well, my me would very much like you to give me some clothes or move this along to wherever you keep your wrack. The chitchat and swan lake routine’s been fun but I’d rather get this over with.”

Castiel’s jaw clenches. “Dean, I do not intend to torture you. That would be counterproductive to my plans.”

Hope rises in Dean, but he quickly pushes it down. “Yeah, see, I don’t really believe that. You might be an angel, but you’re still in Hell; and torture is pretty much the national sport down here. I don’t know what you did, but it must have been pretty bad for God to throw an angel out of Heav-,” the words are knocked out of Dean as Castiel slams him against the wall.

Castiel is a couple of inches shorter than Dean, but that doesn’t make him any less threatening. His left hand pins Dean’s hands above his head while his right hand grasps Dean’s throat raising him off the ground and pressing him tight against the wall.

Face close enough, Dean can feel Castiel’s breath, he growls, “Father did not cast me out of Heaven! My siblings removed me for the same reason I took you from Alistair! I am trying to stop the apocalypse! I had to come to Hell to have any power! Otherwise, I would have become _human_.” He spits the word human out bitterly.

Dean stares at Castiel whose eyes have started glowing even brighter than earlier. Just his luck, he lasted 5 years being tortured by Alistair just to be killed again by an angel with daddy issues.

Dean tries to remove his wrists from Castiel’s grasp. His lungs are screaming from the cutoff air, but Castiel doesn’t seem to notice too busy glaring a hole into Dean’s face. Panicking, Dean makes a desperate attempt to kick Castiel and feels blinding pain shoot up his leg. Castiel’s hands tighten then release Dean who collapses to the floor. Dean gasps for air trying to ignore the spots dancing around him.

Castiel looms above Dean. “You do not need to breathe. That is just an automatic response for your human body. Your soul does not require it.”

Dean gapes up at Castiel, “Thank you, professor, but it’s kinda hard to remember that when someone's choking me.”

Castiel shrugs.

Dean sits up, heart still hammering from adrenaline, and leans his back against the wall. The floor is cold on his ass, and if he had a body, he’d be fast on his way to pneumonia.

Castiel's rant mid choking session plays through Dean's mind, and something sticks out funny. “What apocalypse?”

Castiel stares down at Dean for what feels like an eternity, then speaks, “The one that you are destined to start.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title:
> 
> Cool Water by Johnny Cash
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZccIm5SDxJU


	3. No Way Out But Down

“WHAT?” Dean tries to stand but falls back down to his seated position. He might not need oxygen now, but his soul is having a hard time forgetting that he once did.

Head swimming, Dean says, “I am not going to start the apocalypse. I don’t even know what that means!”

Castiel reaches down and lifts Dean up far more gently than Dean expects and leads him to the bed. Seated, Dean looks up at Castiel questioningly.

Staring down at Dean, Castiel speaks, “You are the righteous man Dean. Destined to break the first seal that will lead to Lucifer’s release from his cage and start the apocalypse.”

Dean rolls his eyes. “I’m not righteous. You have the wrong guy.”

Castiel sighs. “You can believe that all you wish, but it does not make you any less the righteous man. It is written that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood in Hell. As he breaks, so shall it break.”

Dean wrings hands. This is insane.

As the silence builds, Castiel says, “Did you not wonder why even on your first day in Hell, you were offered a deal off the wrack? Before you were moved to one of Alistair’s private room, you were surrounded by other souls, but you were the only one offered a deal daily, sometimes more than once.”

Dean peers up, and Castiel’s eyes soften. “The prophecy said you have to shed blood, Dean. Didn’t you find it strange that so many demons were so desperate for you to pick up a knife?”

Dean looks away. Yeah, he’d found it weird, but he’d been too busy being tortured to think about it. Now he doesn’t have that excuse.

“You mean if I tortured a soul. If…if I took Alistair’s deal, then I’d release Lucifer,” Dean asks turning back to Castiel.

Castiel doesn’t say anything then gives a slight nod.

Dean feels as if he is going to throw up. Of course, he couldn’t just come to Hell and be tortured and turned into a demon like a normal person. He has to start the apocalypse.

Dean hunches over, pulling his hair. He’s screwed up so much while he was alive; it isn’t that big of a leap to think he’d end the world while he's dead.

Dean jumps when Castiel's fingers lightly touch his jaw. The angel pushes his head up, so Dean has no choice but to look into his eyes. “You are not going to become a torturer Dean.”

“I thought about it,” Dean whispers. He doesn’t know why he is admitting it to this angel. He’s never been able to admit it to himself.

“It is your actions that matter, and you never accepted Alistair’s deal. You will not break the first seal on Lucifer’s cage, and you will not become a torturer Dean." Castiel hesitates. "Not if you take my deal instead.”

Dean jerks back at that, and Castiel allows him to wrench himself away from his hand.

“You’ve brought me here to offer me a deal? I thought you were an angel?”

Castiel stiffens. “I am an angel, but we make deals too.”

Castiel sits down beside Dean on the bed and, eyes never leaving Dean's face, says, “I want to stop the apocalypse Dean. If Lucifer walks the Earth, he will destroy humanity, and his children, the demons of Hell, will rule in their place.”

Dean’s brow furrows, “You said Heaven threw you out for trying to stop this. Why does Heaven want Lucifer free?”

Castiel lips quirk, “Heaven, specifically my brother Michael, believes that he will defeat Lucifer and bring a new Heaven to Earth and perhaps he will, but the cost will be high. And if Heaven rules Earth, humanity’s fate will change from being physically erased to being spiritually erased. Free will will become nothing more than a fairy tale.”

“Why not just leave everything as it is? Why release Lucifer and take that chance of losing?” Dean asks. He’s shaking. This is too much.

Castiel turns and looks at Dean, “I’m afraid my family is much more prone to following prophecy rather than common sense. They want you to break Dean. You might have been put under Alistair’s care by demons, but Heaven has not lifted a hand to stop it. If they’ve heard, which I doubt, they are most likely thrilled you have the high inquisitor’s full attention because you can break all the faster, and then Heaven can sweep in and _rescue_  you from Hell. They’ll then use you to break more seals until Lucifer is free. I’m sure they’ll find more uses for you after.”

Dean feels numb. He’d just wanted to save his brother. He never asked for this.

Dean swallows. “But you can stop this? If I take your deal?”

Castiel’s hand reaches out and turns Dean’s face toward him again. “I can promise that you will not become a torturer and will not break the first seal. If Lucifer should ever leave his cage, it will not be because of you.”

Dean stares into Castiel’s eyes. The angel has a poker face that, ironically, men would sell their souls for, but Dean doesn't think he's lying.

Dean needs to hear it again. “If I take your deal, I won’t become a demon or a torturer. I wont release Lucifer.”

Castiel drops his hand from Dean’s face and rests it on his knee. Dean tenses but forces himself to keep looking at Castiel.

“Dean, you will never wish to pick up a blade and cut into a soul anymore than you did as a human. The prophecy clearly states that you must break the seal as a torturer in Hell. If you accept what I offer you, you will not feel the compulsion to perform acts of hatred or malice. You will not become a creature of evil. You will not forget your name or your past. You will be you.”

Dean struggles to breathe. This is too good to be true.

Alistair never stopped reminding Dean that he would eventually become a demon. That it's inevitable, and one day, Dean would finally break. On that day, Dean would want give back all the pain he’s received. From that day on, Dean would hear the screams of Hell as nothing but music that he'd never want to end.

Dean digs his fingers into the bed. If he takes Castiel’s deal, all Alistair said will be wrong. He won’t become a demon. He won’t hurt Sam.

Tears try to build behind Dean’s eyes, and he blinks quickly. He can do one final thing to keep Sam safe and save the world as a bonus.

Trying to keep his voice under control, Dean coughs and asks, “So what’s the deal?”

Castiel tightens his hand on Dean’s knee and says, “It is simple. I want you to agree to be my consort.”

Dean’s stomach sinks.

“I-I don’t understand”.

Castiel releases Dean’s knee and begins to stand. “That is the deal Dean. You become my consort. Now, if you’d rather return back to Alistair, I can arrange-“

“No!” Dean grabs Castiel’s arm without meaning to, fear pulsing throughout his body.

Castiel's gaze is intense as he regards Dean, and he carefully sits back down allowing Dean to continue gripping his arm.

Dean stares at his hand grasping Castiel's arm. His heart is pounding so fast it hurts, and for the first time, he notices the amount of heat that radiates from the angel. In fact, the whole room seems to be warmer.

If the angel could heat a room just from his presence, how would that affect them having sex? Pros and cons flash through Dean mind with the cons list rapidly growing, and Dean tries to shove it out of his mind before he panics.

Acknowleding the reality of things has never been one of Dean's strength. In fact, denial could almost be considered a hobby of his, but this was too important to ignore. He knows he can’t return back to Alistair, not after learning all this. He'll eventually break. Maybe he can hold out for years, but one day he’ll have enough.

Dean glances at Castiel and loosens his hold on his arm but doesn’t let go.

“I don’t understand why you want to have sex.” The guy is an angel. Surely, sex goes against some purity rules.

Castiel rolls his eyes. “I do not necessarily feel things the same as humans Dean, but I am very much alive; and-” Castiel pauses. “I have been in what can best be described as a meditative state since shortly after I came to Hell. When I first arrived here, I made myself known, and the demons were happy to have another angel after Lucifer was caged. I think they wished for me to take his place, but I just wanted to be left alone.”

Castiel wraps his hand around the one that Dean placed on his arm. “It was your soul that woke me Dean. I have been in Hell for eons and no soul has ever had an affect on my mediation, but you woke me straight from it. Your light, your…” Castiel looks away. “Your screams. I could not have returned to my meditation even if I wished.”

Castiel turns back to Dean. “I would have found you sooner but because of the length of time I'd been resting, my existence was, for the most part, forgotten by demons.”

Castiel’s eyes harden and his hand tightens on Dean’s. “I had to remind Hell who I was and why they should be afraid of angels. I needed to make sure there would be no arguments when I took you. You are the righteous man. Without you, the seals on Lucifer’s cage will not break. You can imagine how many demons wish me dead right now.”

“What about Heaven?” Dean asks.

Castiel gives a small almost unnoticeable smile and says, “Heaven is too arrogant to even imagine their plans could fail. They’ve decided that you will break the first seal, and they won’t even consider the idea that you won’t. It will probably be 40 to 60 years here before they even start making an attempt to _rescue_ you. By then, it will be far too late.”

“They don’t think you might try something? You did get thrown out for trying to stop this thing, right?”

Castiel gives a small huff of air through his nose. “They think I’m dead.”

Dean wants to ask more, but Castiel’s face stops him.

Closing his eyes and thinking, Dean says, “So you want me to be your consort because you have the hots for my soul and stopping the apocalypse is just an awesome bonus.”

Castiel is silent, and Dean opens his eyes to see the angel a few inches from his face. “Dean, you are the brightest, most beautiful soul I have ever seen. If circumstances were different, I would take you under my charge and protection without the need for deals.”

“You could just take me under your charge without the whole sex thing,” Dean mumbles.

Castiel's eyes unsubtly fall down to Dean's lips then move back up to his eyes. “This is Hell Dean. A trade must be made. Without it, my protection would mean nothing. Hell may be a place of pain and torture, but even it has a balance that can’t be altered.”

Dean chews on the inside of his cheek and looks at the door. If he turns Castiel down, he’ll return to Alistair and eventually become a demon and release Lucifer. If he agrees to Castiel’s deal, he won’t become a demon, won’t release Lucifer, but he will basically be Castiel’s whore.

The right choice is obvious, but it doesn’t make Dean happy. It makes his skin crawl. He's just trading one torture for another that isn’t too different from the first.

A small voice in the back Dean’s mind reminds him that Sam might still save him. Dean squeezes his eyes shut. What will be left of him if Sam does? He doubts he can even look Sam in the eye now after what Alistair’s done to him, but at least he can say he didn’t volunteer for any of it. At least he can say he fought with all he had.

He won’t have that excuse if he agrees to this with Castiel. Agreeing to this deal is as close as he’ll ever get to giving his consent in Hell. No question, Alistair has damaged him but agreeing to Castiel might break him.

Dean wants to scream. He wants to make a run for the door. He wants to kill Castiel for giving him a choice. Dean isn’t sure even Alistair could think up a torture like this.

Defeated, Dean turns to Castiel and says, “I’ll take your deal.”

Castiel lifts a hand to Dean’s shoulder and leans closer staring into his eyes. “Do not doubt yourself Dean. This is the right choice.”

Dean shuts his eyes as Castiel closes the distance between them, sealing their lips together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title:
> 
> No Way Out But Down by Graham Lindsey
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cbo2sQMZbww


	4. Devil's Resting Place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, I'm so excited that people are reading this! I'm going to try to post a chapter a week, but I might make it two depending on how my schedule with my job goes. 
> 
> This is my first time writing smut/porn/whatever, so any comments are appreciated.

The kiss is soft at first. Dean might even call it chaste, and he hasn’t had many of those in life or in death. Dean tries no to think of the latter as Castiel, obviously not happy with Dean’s stiffness, attempts to deepen the kiss.

Dean keeps his mouth firmly shut even with Castiel’s tongue’s insisting that he open it. The deal is to sex, and Dean wouldn’t even be kissing Castiel in the first place if deals didn’t require it.

Frustrated, Castiel moves back from Dean and stares. Dean is noticing more and more that the angel stares a lot and the dilated pupils are not making it any more normal. If anything, they're making it worse.

Castiel has not moved his hand from Dean’s shoulder since he placed it there, and the heat from Castiel's hand is becoming uncomfortable. Castiel squeezes Dean's shoulder, and Dean stiffens his body more.

Castiel’s eyes narrow. “Dean.”

Dean lifts an eyebrow, “Yeah?” He wishes Castiel would just hurry up and get this over with. Every instinct is telling him to fight, and he feels like he might just crawl out of his skin.

“You are not relaxed.”

“Okay?” Dean doesn’t know where Castiel is going with this. It doesn’t matter if he's relaxed or not, he's just completing his side of the deal.

Castiel brings his other hand to Dean’s hip and begins making small circles with his index finger over Dean’s skin. Dean is trying his hardest to stay still, but Castiel is not making it easy. Why is he dragging this out?

“Dean, the sex will not be good if you don’t relax.”

Dean looks at Castiel confused. “I don’t understand why it matters if I’m relaxed or not. You’ll have sex regardless.”

Castiel’s hands still, and he stares into Dean’s eyes. “You think I don’t want you to enjoy this?”

Dean feels like his eyes might pop out of his head. “Why does that matter? Why does it matter if I enjoy this? This is for you!” He shouldn’t be yelling. So far Castiel has only shown hints of violence, but Dean is sure the guy could do some real damage if pushed. The deal is for sex not torture, but Dean is all too aware of how perfectly painful sex could be.

Dean shakes himself out of Castiel’s hands and glares a hole into the floor. He doesn’t want pain, but he can’t enjoy this; and it’s unfair for Castiel to ask that of him. He’s already agreed. Can’t that be enough?

Castiel brings his hand to Dean’s face, and Dean tries to pull away but Castiel doesn’t let him. He tightens his grip and turns Dean to him. Dean tries to shut his eyes but a “No” from Castiel stops him.

The angel’s stare is unnerving. It’s as if he is trying to consume Dean through his eyesight alone.

As the silence continues, Dean becomes conscious of his own blinking and Castiel’s lack of it. He actually isn’t sure the last time he saw Castiel blink. Did he ever blink? Maybe angels don’t need to.

Dean’s thoughts are interrupted when Castiel speaks, “Dean, it is important to me that you do not view this as another form of torture. That is not what I intend it to be, and I believe you could enjoy it if you’d let yourself.”

“Why does it matter?”

Castiel’s thumb strokes Dean’s jaw, and Dean tries to keep himself from showing his discomfort. He needs this to hurry up.

“Intercourse is meant to bring happiness, Dean. It is something to be shared, and it was not created to be a one-sided show of power and pain. I want you to take pleasure from this. I don’t think I can if you don’t.”

Dean smirks. “Yeah, well that’s not going to happen.”

Castiel’s eyes narrow and his thumb stills on Dean’s jaw. Dean looks back at Castiel’s face and watches it as he slowly moves his thumb to Dean’s lips. Dean frowns but manages to keep still when Castiel applies a light pressure. Smiling, Castiel tenderly strokes his thumb across Dean’s lips.

Dean shivers. He understands pain. He understands hate and suffering and torment. He understands that what Alistair wanted most from him was to suffer and scream. He doesn’t understand this. He doesn’t understand Castiel. It makes him cold in ways Alistair hasn’t in a long time.

The angel gives a small smile then strokes his thumb over Dean’s lips again and leans closer, whispering, “We’ll see.”

Castiel pulls his hand away from Dean, and Dean nearly follows it before he stops himself.

Castiel looks at the rest of the bed. “Dean, I want you to lay down on your stomach.”

Dean lets out a small sigh of relief. Finally, Castiel is moving this along. Now, he can get this over with.

Dean’s face warms as he crawls over the bed. Castiel is watching him, but only the knowledge that this will be over soon keeps him from opening his mouth. The less talking, the faster this will go.

Dean reaches the end of the bed and stretches out, resting his head on a pillow. Not sure how Castiel wants him and not really caring, he crosses his arms underneath the pillow. Behind him, he can hear clothes being removed.

The mattress shifts as Castiel climbs on the bed, and Dean forces himself to keep still. He doesn’t like having his back to Castiel. It leaves him too vulnerable.

Dean buries his face in the pillow when he feels Castiel touch his legs. The angel gently pushes on them till Dean spreads them wider. Castiel gives a noise of approval and moves between Dean’s legs, hands lightly touching his thighs till he removes them.

It’s probably for the best he isn’t facing Castiel. Dean doesn’t know if he could do this and look into Castiel’s eyes the entire time without freaking out.

A touch to his back makes Dean jump, and he quickly tries to recover. It’s always best not to show fear. Not that he is afraid.

Castiel lays both his hands on Dean’s back, and Dean feels the heat radiating from the angel’s fingers. Unsettled, Dean tries to ignore the slight pressure Castiel applies with his hands and grits his teeth when Castiel starts moving them up and down his back. After a few minutes though, he can feel himself melting into the bed.

Using his thumbs now, Castiel digs into Dean’s shoulders hitting points on Dean’s body that haven’t been unwound in years. Methodically, the angel then works his way back down Dean’s back and begins working the heel of his palms into Dean’s lower back.

A sigh of contentment leaves Dean before he can stop it.

It’s only after what Dean assumes is half an hour of this that his mind catches up with what is happening and realizes that Castiel is giving him a massage.

“What are you doing?” Dean’s voice is more breathy then he intends.

“Helping you relax Dean.” Dean can hear the smile in the angel’s voice.

“By giving me a massage?”

Castiel’s hands hit a particularly tense spot, and Dean to his embarrassment arches into the touch.

“You like it, “ Castiel states.

Dean's lips tighten, but a groan slips from his mouth as Castiel hits another tender point.

Time passes, and Dean stops trying to keep track of it as Castiel continues loosening all of the muscles in his back. 

Seemingly content with his work on Dean's upper back, the angel's hands ghosts over Dean's ass as he massages deeper into his lower back. 

“Don't these things usually come with happy endings? “Dean jokes sleepily before he realizes what he’s saying.

Castiel’s hands stop moving, and Dean goes rigid. The damn massage didn’t just loosen his body, it loosened his mouth, and now he’s going to pay for it. He couldn’t have just enjoyed a moment of peace; he had to get cocky and say something stupid.

Castiel’s hands leave Dean’s body, and before Dean can think of something to say, Castiel rumbles, “On your back,”

Dean turns over to find Castiel staring intensely at him as he repositions himself between Dean’s legs. The angel’s face is unreadable.

Castiel grazes his fingers over Dean’s thighs, never taking his eyes from Dean, and leans over and blows on Dean’s dick.

Dean gasps and stretches his hand towards Castiel not sure if he is asking him to continue or to stop.

Castiel stares up at him, face inches from his dick. “Hands above your head.”

“What?”

Castiel’s smile is smug. “If you want me to continue, that is my rule. Cross your wrists above your head.”

Dean’s hands move toward his head, but he stops. “And if I don’t?”

Castiel’s smile grows. “Then this stops.” The angel bends down and takes the head of Dean’s hardening dick into his mouth and circles around it with his tongue before pulling off.

Dean lets out a sharp gasp and crosses his wrists above his head. This a bad idea, but it feels good. It’s been a long time since anything has felt good.

Castiel hums and blows on Dean’s dick again before wrapping his hand around it and slowly begins pumping. Dean throws his head back and closes his eyes. He doesn’t know what kind of angel Castiel is, but he knows how to use his hands.

Castiel’s hand moves faster and Dean’s hips thrust with it till Castiel takes his hand away and pushes Dean’s hips down.

Dean looks down at Castiel and tries to ask why but the only thing that comes out is “ugh!”

Castiel’s hand moves down and slowly strokes Dean’s balls making his breathe hitch. “I have another rule. Don’t move your hips.” He stares into Dean’s eyes. “Do you think you can do this?”

Dean nods frantically wishing the angel would touch him. This should scare him. He shouldn't want anyone to touch him in Hell. He especially shouldn't want an angel having a sexual power trip to touch him.

Castiel shakes his head. “Have to say it, Dean.”

Dean glares at the angel and spits out, “Y-yes, I can keep still.”

Castiel leans down and places a kiss to the top Dean’s dick making him whimper. “Good boy.” Castiel then leans down and takes the entirety of Dean’s hard cock down his throat.

Dean moans and wants to move so badly in the heat of Castiel’s mouth. Castiel seems to know this and laughs around Dean making him moan more.

Slowly, Castiel comes up till nothing but the head of Dean’s dick is in his mouth then he sinks back down again. Dean can feel himself in the back of Castiel’s throat and nearly comes when he feels Castiel swallow around him.

“Cas…Cas…” Dean’s barely able to speak. He hasn’t lasted this short since he was a teenager, but he can feel the telltale signs of the heat in his groin and throbbing in his dick. God, he wants to come so bad. “Cas…I’m gonna come. I…” All Dean can do is moan as Castiel swallows around him again.

Castiel pulls up some and wraps his hand around the bases of Dean’s dick and begins working him earnestly. Dean looks down at Castiel to find dark eyes wrapped with a light ring of blue staring back at him. Castiel smiles around Dean and Dean’s whole body convulses as the angel tongues his slit and he comes hard enough to black out.

* * *

Vaguely, Dean is aware that Castiel has pulled off of him. A whimper escapes him as he feels Castiel lick his dick clean.

Dean feels boneless and can only watch as Castiel crawls over and straddles him. The angel leans over and gives Dean’s bottom lip a light nip before kissing him. Dean doesn’t have the strength to keep his mouth shut and Castiel takes advantage of it exploring Dean’s mouth. Dean can taste himself on Castiel’s tongue but can’t figure out if he is disgusted or turned on.

Dean’s eyes widen at the thought and suddenly Castiel is much too close.

Castiel must feel Dean’s shift in mood. He abruptly wraps his hands around Dean’s wrists keeping them above his head and breaks their kiss, resting his forehead against Dean’s.

“There is no need to panic, Dean. You are safe here.” Castiel’s words roll over Dean, and he tries pulling his hands from Castiel but his grip is like stone.

“I’m not panicking,“ Dean says, trying to squirm away from Castiel and failing. The angel has him locked between his legs, and they’re just as immovable as his hands.

Castiel lifts his head and sighs. “You are, but it is not unexpected. I’d hoped to keep you relaxed longer till we had sex but-“

Dean froze. “That wasn’t sex?”

Castiel tilts his head and slowly thrusts forward so Dean can feel the angel’s hard cock drag across his stomach. “I enjoy pleasuring you, Dean, but I do intend to have intercourse complete with penetration today.”

Dean stares at Castiel. “If that was supposed to be your dirty talk, it needs work.”

Castiel gives a small smile and releases Dean’s wrists. He moves off Dean and sits down back between his legs.

Dean isn’t sure what Castiel wants him to do now and watches as the angel places a hand on his knee and starts making circles with his finger around Dean’s kneecap. Looking at Castiel’s lap shows his arousal is still very much there.

“Aren’t you going to do something about that?”

Castiel lifts Dean’s knee up and places a kiss on it. “I’m not in a rush. I can wait a little longer till you’re more receptive.”

Dean frowns. Part of him still wants to move this along, but another part of him is enjoying the laziness. With Alistair, there’s never been quiet moments just mind breaking anticipation for more pain.

Castiel lifts Dean’s other leg and places kisses to the top of it also. He wraps his arm around the leg and rests his head on it.

“You called me Cas.”

The angel’s voice is low enough Dean could pretend he didn’t hear it, but he is sure Castiel would know.

“Yeah…is that a problem?” Dean had been too caught up in what Castiel was doing to him to pay attention to what he was saying. When a dude’s mouth is on your junk you can’t really be blamed for what spills out of you.

“No, Dean. We are going to be spending a great amount of time together. It makes sense for you call me something simpler. I like it. I’ve never had a nickname before.” Castiel’s voice lowers at the last part.

“What? Your family doesn’t give out nicknames?”

“My family is more traditional when it comes to names. You simply are the name you are given and nothing more. Individuality isn’t looked kindly upon in Heaven.”

Dean looks away as Castiel continues to play with his knees and legs. This isn’t going like he expected, and he’s waiting for the ball to drop. But maybe it won’t? Maybe this is exactly what it’s going to be like? Castiel just seems to want sex with a partner that is willing and active and maybe some conversation to go with it?

Dean gasps as Castiel lifts his leg over his shoulder and begins mouthing at the inside of Dean’s knee. Dean feels his dick stirring again, and it won’t be long until he is hard again.

Fear builds in Dean’s stomach. He shouldn’t be enjoying this. It’s just part of the deal.

Castiel (no, Cas) puts Dean’s leg down and crawls over him. The angel’s gaze is intense.

“Are you ready now, Dean?”

Dean’s fingers twitch. He wants to reach up and pull the angel closer to him. Everything has hurt for so long, he doesn’t know what to do with this. He doesn’t know if he can trust that this isn’t a game.

Instead of answering Cas, Dean stares into his eyes and nods.

Cas doesn’t move. “You have to say it, Dean.”

“Why?”

“Consent is important Dean. I need it to move forward.”

Dean considers not saying anything. Why does Cas need him to say yes? Demons have never needed him to. Maybe Cas can’t have sex with him without consent? But if Dean doesn’t have sex with Cas then the deal will be over. Maybe if he keeps repeating that he can convince himself he’s only have sex with Cas for the deal.

Dean sighs and whispers. “Yes.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title:
> 
> Devil's Resting Place by Laura Marling
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ubdWPJSCbos


	5. Personal Jesus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took me awhile to post this. I’ve started a new job recently working the graveyard shift, and it’s taking its toll on my body.
> 
> I’m still going to try to post a chapter a week, but I might not be able to post a chapter till two weeks sometimes.
> 
> Anyway, this chapter has a lot more porn in it so enjoy.

Cas leans down and gives Dean a light kiss before scooting back and leaning somewhat off the bed. A scraping noise echoes around the room as Cas picks something up off the floor.

Dean’s sure there was nothing on the floor earlier, and when he sees what Cas’s holding he knows he would have seen that if it’d been there. He probably would have thrown it at Cas when he entered the room.

Cas opens the bottle of lube and smears some of its contents onto his fingers while looking at Dean. “As a soul, you do not need this to have penetrative intercourse.”

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and hopes Cas will stop talking soon. He can do this, but probably not if he hears the phrase “penetrative intercourse” again.

“But I understand that your soul is still struggling to separate what it needs now to what your corporal body needed. Therefore, I will make sure you are completely prepared for me. I want you to experience as very little pain as possible.”

Dean opens his eyes and sees Cas lower his hand, and a whispered “stop” leaves his mouth before he can help himself.

Cas’s whole body freezes and he looks back at Dean worried.

“I-I…’ Dean licks his lips and tries again. “I don’t want to be facing you when we do this.”

Cas tilts his head. “I don’t understand.”

Dean hesitates then sits up, so he and Cas are eye level. He tries to keep eye contact but looks down. “I think this might be easier if I don’t have look at your eyes.”

“No.”

Dean looks up at a stoned face Cas. “No?”

“No.” Castiel reaches out with his unlubed hand and pushes Dean back down on the mattress. He leans over Dean till their faces are nearly touching, and Dean freezes as he feels one of Cas’s lubed fingers slowly push against the crack of his ass.

“No. You don’t want to look at my face because you want to try to forget what’s happening here, but I will not be participating in this alone.”

Castiel’s face softens. “Dean. I need you with me.”

“Why?” Dean whispers. He can feel Cas’s fingers pressing against his ass, and he just wants this over with. Why can’t Cas just move this along?

“Sex is about sharing and intimacy, Dean. I want to share this with you.”

“Why? Haven’t you shared with other people? Why can’t this just be sex without all the touchy feely crap?”

Cas sits back on the bed and removes his hand from Dean’s ass.

A thought pops in Dean’s head. “You have had sex before, right?”

The angel makes a pained face and stares intently at the headboard behind Dean.

Dean blinks. “You’re a virgin?”

Cas looks away, and Dean is fairly certain the angel is blushing. “I’ve just never had the occasion.”

A grin spreads on Dean’s face. “What? Never had cloud sex with another angel?”

Cas’s eye twitches. “Those are my siblings, and we have more pressing matters than to worry about the fleshly needs of our vessels.”

Dean lets out a laugh then pauses and mulls over what Cas just said. “Vessel? What do you mean vessel?”

Cas flicks his hand towards his body and still very prominent erection reminding Dean of what they should be doing instead of talking. “Angels take vessels, Dean. They are humans that can contain our beings, so that we can walk the Earth.”

Dean sits up and puts a little space between himself and Cas. “So your possessing some guy?”

“I have to have consent, Dean. He asked for this.”

“He asked to be an angel condom?”

“He asked to serve Heaven.”

Dean breaks eye contact with Cas and grits his teeth. “So how does he feel about you using his body to fuck me? Or did you just think that didn’t matter, and it was time to pop your cherry?”

“Dean, I do not have a cherry or any other fruit and sharing this intimacy with you is serving Heaven.”

“Fucking me is serving Heaven?”

Cas reaches out and grasps Dean’s hand. “We are finalizing a deal that will keep Lucifer from being released and stopping the apocalypse from starting. This was Heaven’s original purpose, to protect and guide man. My brothers and sisters have lost sight of that but I have not.”

Cas pulls on Dean’s arm forcing Dean to lean closer to him. He brings a hand to the side of Dean’s face and leans closer till their faces are barely inches apart. “This intimacy that you have agreed to will protect humanity, Dean. My vessel has a family of his own that he also needs to be protected, but if Lucifer walks the Earth I cannot ensure his family’s safety.”

Dean swallows. “You make it sound like fucking me will literally save the world.”

Cas smiles. “Our bodies uniting will simply stop the world from ending in hell and holy fire by my brothers’ hands. Hell requires trades to be made and to ensure my protection over you and that you don’t fall back into Alistair’s hands, I only ask that you share your body with me, Dean.”

Dean stares into Cas’s eyes trying to find a sign that the angel is lying, but he can’t find anything.

“What’s the guy’s name?”

“Whose name?”

Dean counts to ten then speaks. “The guy your possessing, Cas.”

“His name is Jimmy.”

“Will he…will he know we’re having sex?”

“Jimmy is sleeping. He can’t feel or hear anything.”

“That makes it sound like you roofied him.”

“He is sleeping for his protection. Being awake and experiencing an angel in his body could be damaging beyond my ability to heal.”

Dean closes his eyes. This was easier when he was just going to have sex with the angel but knowing there is someone else in Cas’s body, or, better yet, that this isn’t even Cas’s body, makes this way harder. He has no choice but to trust that Cas is telling him the truth, and Jimmy is okay with this. At least, the guy isn’t awake. This would have become one of the weirdest threesomes Dean ever had.

Dean takes a breath and opens his eyes. Cas is still inches away from him, and Dean closes the distances crashing their lips together.

Cas moans and pulls on Dean's hips to lie him back down on his back and crawls on top him never breaking their kiss.

Dean feels Cas’s fingers press against his ass and doesn’t say anything this time but squeezes his eyes shut. Cas breaks their kiss and his lips brush Dean’s ear. “Relax, Dean. I promise I won’t hurt you.”

Dean nods and tries to force his body to relax. The past couple of years have taught him that it will hurt worse if he resists. Cas begins kissing Dean again, and Dean tries to lose himself in Cas’s lips as he feels one of the angel’s fingers slowly circle around his hole before pushing in.

It feels strange and burns a little, but it isn’t agonizing like Dean anticipated. In fact, he could almost forget Cas has his finger in his ass if the angel hadn’t started moving it in circles.

Dean lets out a small gasp, and Cas chuckles and moves down to start mouthing at Dean’s jaw. Dean tries to hold back any noises, but Cas’s finger makes wider circles and a part Dean wants to grind down on it but he holds himself back and repeats his mantra: this is only for the deal.

Dean tries not to freak out when he feels Cas add a second finger, and the burn is a little more than the first but not anywhere unbearable; but he nearly loses it when Cas begins scissoring him.

Cas stops sucking a bruise on the side of Dean’s jaw and leans up staring intently at Dean’s face. The angel gives a small smirk and Dean doesn’t have long to think about it before he feels Cas’s fingers, and he nearly jumps out of his skin as Cas hits that spot imbedded deep within Dean’s body. Dean moans as pleasure shoots up and down his spine, and his hands that had just been lying to side of him reach out and cling to Cas.

Cas adds a third finger and continues massaging Dean’s prostate, and all Dean can do is moan, and, to his embarrassment, grind back on Cas’s fingers.

Cas leans back down and starts sucking a hickey onto Dean’s neck. “Told you you’d feel good.”

“Sh-shut up!” is all Dean manages to get out. Cas stops touching his prostate as much and begins stretching all three of his fingers, and Dean calms down a little.

Dean isn’t going to bullshit himself and say he doesn’t like sex because he loves sex. He loves the feeling and the pleasure and, although he doesn’t think about it, the closeness to another person. What Dean isn’t sure about is having sex with another dude.

Sure, he’s thought about it but never for long and he never let himself act on it. That just isn’t the type of guy he’s supposed to be. Of course, that fact is hard to remember while having a guy’s fingers buried in his ass…and not hating the sensation.

Dean realizes he’s digging his fingers into Cas’s back and relaxes his grip but doesn’t let go. He doesn’t want to let go. It’s been five years of being ripped apart and exposed and broken. Five years of nothing but Hell. Dean’s had enough and does the only thing he’s been fighting since Cas offered him the deal. He gives in completely.

Dean moans as Cas brushes against his prostate again, and he looks at Cas in confusion when the angel removes his fingers. Cas’s fingers don’t belong in Dean’s ass, but he can’t help feeling a loss with them gone.

Cas kisses him, and Dean doesn't fight him when the angel slips his tongue into his mouth. Dean feels Cas smile against his lips, and gently, Cas breaks the kiss and stares down into Dean’s eyes.

“I’m going to penetrate you now, Dean”

Dean rolls his eyes. “Cas, please don’t word it like that.”

Cas sit back smiling and picks up the bottle of lube he’d left on the bed. He pours some lube on his fingers, and Dean watches as Cas spreads it on his dick. Jimmy’s dick Dean corrects himself then quickly pushes that thought away. Better just to think of this body as Cas’s.

Staring at Cas’s dick, Dean is now very aware that not only is he himself hard again, but that Cas has a pretty sizeable cock. Not porn star big or anything, but definitely somewhat above average.  

Dean swallows and tries not to think about how much this could hurt.

Cas reaches behind Dean and grabs a pillow. He nudges at Dean to lift his hips slightly, and Cas slides the pillow underneath him. Dean starts to spread his legs wider, but Cas surprises him and places both his legs over his shoulders.

Dean’s face reddens. He hates feeling this vulnerable.

Cas reaches down and grasps his dick, his eyes never leaving Dean’s face, and Dean holds his breath as he feels Cas’s cock press into him.

A part Dean still wants to fight, but he forces himself to hold still as Cas slowly slides into him till he is literally balls deep. Dean lets out his breath. It hurts some, but it isn’t excruciating or anything. The best word to describe how he feels is just full. Just very fucking full.

Dean closes his eye and waits for Cas to start moving. When the angel doesn’t, he opens his eyes and sees Cas frozen above him with his eyes squeezed shut.

“Cas?”

Cas opens his eyes and stares down at Dean. Voice strained, he says, “It feels…different than I expected.”

“Different how?”

Cas’s eyes glow. “It just feels…different. Human sensation can be…very overwhelming.”

Dean reaches out and grasps Cas’s neck pulling the angels down into a kiss. Dean’s ignores the small pain as his body bends uncomfortably but gasps when Cas’s dick rubs against his prostate.

Calmer, Cas lifts back up and places a hand Dean’s hip and slowly begins to thrust.

Cas thrusts start out slow, and Dean listens to the moans coming out of Cas’s mouth and feels his dick twitch at the noise. Cas’s thrusts quickly pick up speed and Dean tightens his grip on Cas’s back. With Cas pounding into his prostate, Dean doesn’t even try to keep his noise level down, and he’s pretty sure all of Hell can hear him at this point.

Cas’s thrusts become more erratic, and Dean moans as Cas grabs his dick and starts pumping in time with his thrusts.

Unable to hold out any longer, Dean comes over Cas’s hands, his cum painting his and Cas’s chests. Cas’s movement comes to a halt and he lets out a small moan of Dean’s name and comes up his ass. Dean might have commented on that if he was able to speak.

Cas pulls out of Dean with a groan and lies down to side the side of him, reaching out and grasping Dean’s hand tightly. Dean turns to look at Cas. He’s blissed out even more than was earlier, but he’s unsure what Cas wants him to do now.

“So, uh, what now?”

Cas stares at the ceiling before turning to look back at Dean. “You can sleep.”

“Dude, I have cum leaking out of my ass and all over my chest. That’s going to make it kind of difficult to fall asleep.”

“I’ll take care of it, rest.” Before Dean can say anything else, Cas reaches out and touches two fingers to Dean’s head, and Dean sleeps.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title:
> 
> Personal Jesus by Johnny Cash
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qpYW3qng78E


	6. Wolf Like Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, it's been so long since I posted. I've been very busy with work, and it always feels like you don't have time to do anything when you work graveyards.
> 
> I also want to thank everyone for leaving kudos and such nice comments!

_Dean looks up at Sam then stares back down at his hands. He hadn’t meant for Sam to see him like this. Down on his knees, hands clasped together, strongly considering praying to a God that he knows isn’t really listening._

_Sam’s eyes look so tortured; Dean can’t stand to look back up at him._

_“Dean. Are you praying?”_

_“No.”_

_Dean stands up quickly and walks over to the motel’s mini-fridge and takes another beer out of it. He should probably stop drinking since it was the beer that got him down on his knees in the first place. He’d dropped the empty bottle underneath the bed and stooped down to pick it up, and realizing his position thought, what the hell. Why not try the one-way phone line to the place upstairs? Of course, he’d also thought the damn motel door was locked._

_“Dean.”_

_Sam reaches out, and Dean dodges out of his reach and sits down on the bed and turns on the TV. Sam says his name again, and Dean turns the volume up._

_“Dean!”_

_The remote is ripped out of Dean’s hand, and the TV shuts off with a click._

_Dean doesn’t take his eyes away from the now black screen. “Sammy, if you didn’t want to watch TV, all you had to do was say something.”_

_“Dean…were you praying?”_

_“No.”_

_Dean continues staring at the TV as Sam sits down next to him on the bed. He really doesn’t want to talk about this. He really just wants to drink the beer that is starting to warm in his hand._

_Sam doesn’t say anything, and Dean spares a glance at his brother who is now staring at the same black TV screen._

_“You’re not going to Hell, Dean. We’re going to stop it.”_

_Dean opens his beer bottle and takes a sip not really tasting it. He wonders sometimes if he actually likes the taste of beer or if he just convinced himself he does so he can keep enjoying the effects. It probably doesn’t matter._

_“Dean, are you listening?”_

_Dean spares Sam a guilty look then hardens his face and stands to leave. The room is feeling hotter by the second, and he needs some air._

_Sam stands and blocks his path. “Dean it’s going to work out. We’re going to stop you from going to Hell. You’re…you’re not going to become a demon. Okay?”_

_Dean opens his mouth to tell Sam he knows. He knows he won’t go to Hell. He knows he won’t become a demon. That’s the way this memory goes, but that isn’t what leaves his mouth._

_“Everyone becomes something in Hell, Sam. No one can change that.”_

_Sam tilts his head to side, confused, but that isn’t what Sam does when he’s confused. That what…_

_Panicking, Dean reaches out for his brother, but everything fades away._

* * *

Dean opens his eyes somewhat dazed. He isn’t in chains, he’s on a bed, and he feels…good? Then the memories from earlier rush back to him.

He sits up looking around for Cas, but the angel isn’t in the room. What is in the room is a dark blue robe laying on the end of the bed, and to Dean’s shock, the door leading out of the room is cracked open.

Quickly, Dean climbs out of bed and slides the robe on himself walking to the door. He reaches to open it and hesitates. Is this some sort of test? A way for him to show Cas he isn’t going to run away? But why would Cas have left the robe if he didn’t want Dean to leave the room?

Dean argues with himself a moment longer before just jerking the door wide open revealing…a library. A library big enough to hold a couple houses inside it.

Dean walks into the room and gapes at the floor to ceiling walls of books. The room is gigantic, and Dean is pretty sure if he makes a sound it will echo like a cave.

Trying to get his bearings, Dean leans against one of the many tables littered throughout the library. Books are piled on top of it along with maps and scrolls Dean can’t read. He doesn’t even know what languages they’re in or even if it's human ones.

Looking up, Dean tries to take in the walls and walls of books without being overwhelmed. He’s standing in a room, possibly rooms, full of archaic texts that human eyes may have never seen. It’s something Sam should be witnessing not him.

Dean mulls over what his brother would have thought of all this and walks towards one of the only things breaking up the walls and walls of books, a window. It’s large, made to fit the magnitude of the room, Dean guesses, but all he could see was fog and mist outside it. Must have been made for looks. Weird, because didn't strike him as much of an interior decorator.

“Enjoying my collection?”

Dean jumps and turns around to see Cas giving him a shy smile. The angel is clothed again in his suit and flasher trench coat, and he thankfully doesn’t look angry that Dean left his room.

“Why do you have so many books?”

Cas walks over to Dean and grasps the back of his head. Dean stills then reluctantly lets the angel guide his lips to his. The kiss is soft, and Dean gasps when Cas gives a bite to his bottom lip.

Breaking the kiss, Cas smiles at Dean. “I started collecting books written by demons and other creatures for strategy reasons. Later, after the fall of more than one human civilization, I started adding texts written by humans for preservation purposes.”

"So you created your own personal museum?"

"More or less."

Dean looks down at the table next him. "So where are these scrolls from?"

Cas glances down. "Mostly Atlantis, but a few of them I obtained from the library of Alexandria."

Dean feels like his brain is going to explode. “Are you telling me you have the library of Alexandria in here? And books from Atlantis?”

"Yes."

Not knowing how to respond to Cas’s casualness about what he just admitted, Dean continues to stare at all the books around him. This is a good reminder for Dean that Cas is probably the least human thing he’s ever met. He needs to be cautious. Did he make the right choice yesterday?

Dean jumps when Cas undoes his robe. He quickly holds it shut with his hand.

Cas lays his hand over Dean's. "Dean, I know you’re having doubts now and questioning your decision. I need you to trust me.”

The angel loosens Dean’s grip on his robe. “I truly want you to be happy here, Dean. I want to keep you safe."

Cas slowly pulls Dean's robe open more, and Dean sucks in a breath as Cas drags a hand down his chest and stops.

"So this is really it? No pain? No torture?"

Cas's hand moves lower. "I have not lied Dean. I want to stop the apocalypse and....I want your body."

The angel stares into Dean's eyes. "Is it really that hard to accept?"

"Kinda...but I can try."

"That's all I ask."

Cas leans closer till their bodies are touching and slides his hand down Dean's body completely opening his robe. The gust of air against his dick is forgotten as Cas wraps his hand around it. Kissing the side of his neck, the angel strokes him till he gives an involuntary thrust into his hand. Cas chuckles wickedly and speeds up his hand. 

Dean's mind shuts down as he lets his weight fall against the angel taking him apart. Lets himself get a lost in Cas's touches and opens his mouth willingly for Cas to slip his tongue in.

Dean is still worried, but maybe for a while he can pretend he doesn't have to be. Just for a little while.

With a moan, Dean comes over Cas's hand, and little noises escape the back of his throat as Cas strokes him through the orgasm.

Dean continues to lean against Cas, and watches as Cas stares at his come covered hand.

"Whatcha thinking about?" Dean mumbles against Cas's cheek. 

The angel's mouth quirks up a little, and he brings his hand up to Dean's mouth with a glint in his eye.

"No."

"Dean surely licking your own semen cannot be any worse than what I'll ask you to do in the future?"

Not having a good answer to that, Dean reluctantly sticks out his tongue and quickly licks one of Cas’s fingers. The first word to pop in his mind is salty.

Cas’s eyes darken, but thankfully, he seems satisfied and doesn’t ask Dean to lick anymore. Instead, he wraps his hand around Dean’s tightly and pulls him back towards the bedroom.

“Cas…I-I just came. I don’t think my body is going to bounce back that quick.”

“Maybe not your body, Dean. But I think you underestimate the capability of your soul. With practice I think we can get your refractory time down to seconds.”

Dean barely has time to comprehend the word _seconds_ before the angel pulls him into the bedroom, and he hears the door shut behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Title:
> 
> Wolf Like Me/Intro by TV On The Radio vs. The xx
> 
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BNKXBaIKIUE


End file.
